


Where All The Satellites Are Mine

by Rawrpeep



Series: Into the Wild [2]
Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Denial, Flowers, Fluff, Gay Panic, Language of Flowers, Multi, Polyamory (pre), Tension, The major death tag references chapter 5, alien cuddles, it's a side story that doesn't involve any of the main cast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:21:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28067706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rawrpeep/pseuds/Rawrpeep
Summary: Side stories for "There's No Telling What You'll Find."  Everything is canon to the main story unless stated otherwise.(Current ref update: Chapter 11)Current update (ch5): “First Contact” in which humanity makes first contact with impostors.  It doesn’t go well.
Relationships: Black/Pink/Red (Among Us), Brown & Lime & Pink (Among Us), Brown/Pink (Among Us), Cyan/Purple (Among Us)
Series: Into the Wild [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056044
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	1. References

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn’t involve any type of story or anything, it’s just here as a reference for my characters and maybe a bit of info. Some spoilers, of course, for dead characters, but it shouldn’t be an issue if you’ve read the main story. Everyone is single, unless otherwise noted. This will be updated if/when new characters are introduced.
> 
> Edit 2/27/21: Added a bit more information about the impostor race as it appears in my works, including a bit on reproduction.

**REFERENCES**

**Note about impostors:** As revealed in the two part finale, Prelude, the true name for the impostor species is Phiri (fee-ree). Their home planet is known as Chenis (cheh-niss).

Their eyes are a bit bigger than those of humans, and the pupils work in a similar way to a cat’s. They don’t have noticeable noses, but there’s a bump in their face where the nose would be if viewed from the side. Generally, they look similar to humans in stature, with varying heights, hair, ears (but they’re small and pointy), and so on. They just have tentacles and a few features different enough to make them more alien, and it varies by the individual.

Some have webbed fingers/toes, some have short vestigial tails, some have small horns. Some are bioluminescent, too. (Most of these particular individuals have splashes of glow-in-the-dark freckles on various parts of their bodies, but shoulders and face are most common.) There’s also the giant mouths on their torsos, but we all know about those. And, of course, they’re shapeshifters, so they can hide any of this at will.

Impostors are a very colorful species. Their codenames (ex: Purple, Lime, etc) are based on their appearances in their true forms. For example, a codename Blue impostor would have blue eyes, blue hair, and a blue tint to their skin. Shades tend to vary, even on a particular person (ex: dark blue hair and light blue eyes). Tentacle color matches hair color. Hair tends to shine a little in the right light, like precious gemstones.

Newborn impostors are generally gray in coloration, and their "true colors," so to speak, show up as they age. They begin to show signs of their adult colors as young as 2 years, but they typically start around 5 years. This tends to start in their eyes before spreading out. By the time they reach 10 years, their adult colors have taken over. Interestingly enough, impostors who show their colors early are more likely to reach their Prime early.

"Prime" is essentially second puberty, and the time at which impostors begin to seek bond-mates. This typically occurs around 24-25 years of age, but some may reach this as early as 20. Bond-mates are usually chosen for compatible personalities, and some individuals may have more than one. This is actually fairly common and widely accepted. Bond-mates may be chosen from any sentient species, and impostors are capable of breeding with non-impostor species due to their shapeshifting abilities.

Impostors are a hermaphroditic ovoviviparous species, meaning they have both "male" and "female" reproductive organs, and that they carry fertilized eggs* within their bodies until the eggs are ready to hatch. Shortly before laying the eggs, the impostor will begin nesting. Once the eggs are out, they typically hatch within 24-48 hours. There are usually 2-4 eggs in a standard clutch, and 1-2 in an atypical one.

*Oddly enough, if an impostor breeds with a species that gives live birth, and the impostor is the one carrying the infant, it will still be born via egg. These pairings count as atypical, and therefore only 1-2 "live" eggs will come out. The "live" egg is more fragile than a typical impostor egg, lacking a gelatinous shell. What counts as the "shell" is an extremely thin membrane that exists solely so the egg doesn't go splat upon exiting. The membrane quickly begins to dissolve when exposed to air. "Live" eggs typically hatch within one hour of leaving the parent.

All in all, adult impostors are colorful and pretty and if they existed on Earth, despite their sentience, they would probably be hunted for sport so certain humans could have unique trophies.

Anyway, on to the actual characters!

**IMPOSTORS**

**+Purple:** Andar (ahn-darr)

\- Name comes from bolinus brandaris, the purple dye murex, a type of sea snail that secretes a substance used as purple dye

-Currently aromantic and asexual, though when they hit their prime, they’ll be demiromantic and demisexual

-As suggested in chapter 7, their prime is coming a bit early.

-Their name can also be pronounced as ann-darr, if you use those midwestern A’s (like my Michigan ass does).

-5’3”

-22 years old

-Non-binary (they)

-Medical assistant

-"Married"/Bonded to Cyan/Jude

**+Lime:** Ustyl (oo-steel)

-His name comes from papustyla pulcherrima, the emerald green tree snail

-Currently aromantic and asexual, though when he hits his prime, he’ll be panromantic and bisexual

-Has bioluminescent freckles

-6’2”

-18 years old

-Male

-Engineer

**+Pink:** Onat (oh-naht)

-Name comes from hymenopus coronatus, the orchid mantis

-Panromantic and demisexual

-5’6”

-25 years old

-Female

-Comms, computers

-Was married/bonded to Brown/Oron

- _Kind of_ dating Black/Amelia and Red/Ash

**HUMANS**

**+White:** Johanna

-Heteroromantic and heterosexual

-Widowed

-5’5”

-48 years old

-Female

-Navigation, therapist

**+Blue:** Adam

-Biromantic and bisexual

-5’11”

-36 years old

-Male

-Captain

**+Green:** Ludvik

-Biromantic and asexual

-6’4”

-39 years old

-Male

-Medic

**+Yellow:** Erin

-Panromantic and heterosexual

-Physically pretty strong

-4’6”

-25 years old

-Female

-Engineer

-Currently dating Orange/Matthew

-Childhood best friends with Red/Ash

**+Orange:** Matthew (Matt/Mattie)

-Biromantic and bisexual

-Lanky

-5’9”

-29 years old

-Male

-Weapons

-Currently dating Yellow/Erin

**+Black:** Amelia

-Homoromantic and homosexual

-5’6”

-24 years old

-Female

-Weapons

- _Kind of_ dating Red/Ash and Pink/Onat

**+Red:** Ash

-Demiromantic and heterosexual (likes women)

-5’4”

-25 years old

-Non-binary (they)

-Security

-Childhood best friends with Yellow/Erin

- _Kind of_ dating Black/Amelia and Pink/Onat

**+Cyan:** Jude

-Demiromantic and asexual (as demi/ace myself, I had to include this somewhere.)

-5’7”

-23 years old

-Non-binary (they)

-Comms

-"Married"/Bonded to Purple/Andar

**+Leaf:** Cass

-Aromantic and pansexual

-5'9"

-27 years old

-Non-binary (they)

-Security

-Green suit

**+Violet:** Melody

-Aromantic and asexual

-5'3"

-20 years old

-Female

-Navigation

-Purple suit

**+Mint:** Skylar

-Biromantic and bisexual (but prefers cuddling over sex or romance)

-6'00"

-24 years old

-Male

-Engineer, smuggler

-Cyan suit

**BONUS**

**+Brown:** Oron (oh-rohn)

-Name comes from hymenopus coronatus, the orchid mantis, males of which are brown (thought it would match Pink’s name nicely)

-Demiromantic and demisexual

-5’8”

-26 years old

-Non-binary (they)

-Shields

-Dead

-Was married/bonded to Pink/Onat

**+Lime (human):** Julia

-Panromantic and pansexual

-5’4”

-21 years old

-Female

-Medic

-Dead

**+Helena Plumm**

-Partner preferences unknown

-5'6"/5'9" with heels

-34 years old

-Female

-General, MIRA higher-up

-All around badass, don't cross her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have any pictures of characters, nor do I have much in the way of races or physical features for the human characters. I like to let people picture their own versions of these characters, because…
> 
> Well. I don’t know if it’s just me, but whenever people describe their characters (without a solid image of them), my mind just kinda… Does its own thing? Like… “This person is really tall with shaggy white hair, blue eyes, a nice chin, broad shoulders, stubble, etc” makes my brain go “Okay cool. Tall dude with white hair and blue eyes. Got it.” and it just skips out on finer details. Then if a picture of them shows up later, I get confused because it’s so different from my mental image of them. Does that make sense?
> 
> Oof, sorry about the rambling. But I hope it helped clear things up as to why I don’t really describe my characters. I DO have mental images of my own characters, though. Probably won’t show anything other than basic info here.


	2. All the Way Home I'll be Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Kiln's crew is on Polus, and Lime is Very Cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a surprise Christmas/winter special for you! Takes place before the main story begins. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains a small amount of zalgo text (used for its glitchy effect), just in case that’s something you’re uncomfortable with. It’s a small area and doesn’t contain any important info, so you can scroll past it fairly easily. If you’re curious about what’s listed in it, I’ve got it at the chapter’s end notes.

**All the Way Home I’ll be Warm**

Your name is Lime, and you are the lead medical officer for the MIRA ship known as the Kiln. Currently, your crew is stationed on Polus, and you’ll be here for a few more weeks before returning to the stars for whatever it is the higher-ups need you to do next.

You hate it here.

It’s cold everywhere, even inside of the buildings, and your suit just doesn’t keep you warm enough, despite having a heavy coat and snow pants over it. It’s only a little better when you get close to the lava pits, but that’s a double-edged sword in itself. It keeps your front warm, but your back stays cold, and by the time you turn around to warm your back, you feel like you need to rip off your coat because you’re getting too hot.

All in all, it’s an absolute _mess_ and you wish you never had to get off the ship. At least the temperature in _there_ was comfortable.

You’ve noticed that you’ve been snappier lately, and you pin the blame entirely on the awful climate. You nearly shoved Green into the lava pit the other day when they made a terrible pun at your expense.

_“Gee, Lime, I think you really need to_ _**chill** _ _out.”_

You like to imagine that you wouldn’t have been in _too_ much trouble if you’d done it, but Captain White is a stickler for rules and he probably would’ve called you an impostor and shoved _you_ into the lava as punishment.

You think, maybe, it would’ve been worth it. At least then you’d be _warm_.

Glumly, you make your way from the lava pit to the office, and take a trip through specimen on your way back to medbay. You don’t actually _need_ to go through specimen, but it’s probably the most sheltered area of the base. The double-doored decontamination chambers, and the areas between, retain heat fairly well, making it your preferred route whenever you need to enter or exit medbay. As you approach the secluded room, you think you hear voices coming from it. When you get within ten feet of the room, the voices stop and the lights go out.

“Oh, come _on,”_ you groan.

“...Lime?”

“Pink?”

You blindly find your way to the wall and feel your way into specimen. You don’t know Pink very well, but she seems nice enough from the few times you’ve spoken with her.

“Yeah, Brown and I are in here. Are you on your way to medbay?”

“Yeah, it’s just too cold to walk outside.” You shiver, leaning back against what you think is a counter. “Why are you two in here?”

“We’re trying to stay warm,” Brown answers easily. You hear shifting. “Do you want to come sit by us, instead of staying all the way over there?”

That’s… odd. The lights are out, so how would they know how far away you are? Granted, you aren’t quite sure how far away you are from _them_ either, so you chalk it up to the distance of your voice.

“Sure,” you respond. “Where are you?”

“Back corner,” Pink says. “Just find the wall and feel your way over to us; I’ll try to meet you halfway.”

You nod before uttering a quick agreement, remembering that they (probably) can’t see you in the dark. You move forward and attempt to find a wall, but trip and fall against the chest instead. You huff in annoyance but stay down, thinking it may be easier to crawl your way to them. It takes a few minutes, but you finally feel Pink’s leg, and she leans down to help you up before easily pulling you into the corner.

(You think that’s kind of weird, too. How does she know her way around this room so well, when you can’t even see the nose on your face?)

All suspicions fizzle away when she tucks you between herself and Brown and you feel blissful _warmth_ radiating from them. It’s perfect, not overwhelming like the lava pit. You sigh happily and melt into the cuddle pile, feeling more relaxed than you have since setting foot on Polus.

You don’t even notice when the lights come back on.

\-----------------------------

There’s a week left before your crew is supposed to leave Polus, and you’ve noticed a few things about your two new friends. First, the lights seem to go out whenever you’re about to walk in on them, unannounced, and that’s just _really weird._ Second, Pink and Brown are _unusually good_ at navigating in the dark, and with how frequently the lights go out, it comes off as incredibly suspicious. Third, your collection of the crew’s medical records has shown that neither of them have submitted a scan since boarding the Kiln several weeks ago.

You’re fairly certain they’re impostors, but you don’t have any concrete proof. No one has died, which is good, but those two are just… Different, now that you’ve gotten to know them a little. You decide that you’re going to get to the bottom of this and confront them.

You just hope you won’t be the first casualty.

It’s late at night, and most of the crew (that is, everyone but you, and presumably Pink and Brown) have already gone to bed. Files in hand, you leave medbay and enter the decontamination chamber, walking toward specimen. The lights are dim, but not _out_ , so it’s a bit easier to see as you walk. You think that sneaking would be a bad idea; if Pink and Brown are in specimen already, you’d rather not give them a reason to turn out the lights completely, because then you’d have to walk out into the cold and turn them back on, and who _knows_ if they’d still be here when you got back.

You call out to them.

“Lime?” comes Brown’s voice, laced with surprise.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you return, “I need to talk to both of you. Can I come in?”

“Um, sure, hold on just a second-”

_Are they… fooling around?_ Your eyes widen a little at the thought. _Oh, stars, that’s so awkward if they are. Oops._

You briefly consider turning around and walking away.

(But you don’t.)

You can hear them muttering for a minute, even over the wind and bubbling lava outside, before inviting you in. They’re sitting in their corner, a cozy tangle of limbs, and they wave when you enter the room. Their suits are fully intact, and you feel a bit like a pervert for thinking they would be otherwise. You smile at them awkwardly, still holding your folder.

“Hi, Lime!” Pink brightly greets you. “You’re up kind of late. Is everything okay?”

“I just couldn’t sleep, so I started reorganizing the medical records,” you offer before clearing your throat. “That’s… actually what I came to talk to you about.”

Your friends now look significantly less relaxed and you may or may not be regretting your decision to do this while _everyone else is asleep._ You lift the folder in your hand and pretend not to notice their tension.

“My records show that neither of you have submitted a scan since boarding? As the lead- and only- medical officer here, I need you to come to medbay with me. Routine scans are important to keep up on, in case someone picks up an unfamiliar virus or bacteria, and they check your vitals to make sure you’re in good health.”

Pink and Brown exchange a look and mutter something to each other, but you don’t recognize the language. You shift awkwardly and clear your throat again.

“No one else is awake, in case you’re… worried,” you offer, and they whip their attention back to you at an unnerving speed. You try not to flinch.

“Y-you know,” you continue, “Worried about getting… embarrassed. Or something.” They glance at each other again in a way that definitely means “or something” before standing up and _oh stars, this is it, you’re about to die-_

“I suppose that makes sense...” Pink mutters, gripping Brown’s hand tightly. “How long will it take?”

“Only a few minutes each, at most.”

( _Holy_ _flaming heap of_ _ **shit**_ _how the_ _ **hell**_ _are you still alive.)_

“Great!” You desperately hope your tension isn’t showing in any way as you lead the two probably-impostors back to medbay. Oddly enough, they seem just as nervous as you, but you play the part of courteous hostess-slash-doctor perfectly. You gesture to the scanner and move to stand next to its control panel.

“You don’t need to take off your suit or anything. Just stand on the platform and I’ll hit the start button.”

Brown takes a deep breath and steps up onto the platform, wringing their hands together nervously. You press the button and the scan begins, though it sputters to a stop before it can get much higher than their ankles. You hum in thought, offhandedly mentioning that this is unusual. Brown is still fidgeting and Pink looks like she would be chewing her fingernails if she wasn’t wearing a helmet and gloves. You think that you would be, too, if not for the same reasons.

“Here,” you step away from the control panel and gesture for Brown to step down, to which they quickly comply. “Let me try. Maybe the wires are just too cold?”

(Is that even a thing, or is it just something you grew up hearing? You honestly have no idea.)

You step up onto the platform and lean over to press the button. The green light rises from your feet, to your ankles, to your waist, your shoulders, your neck, your head, and back down again with no problems whatsoever. You aren’t entirely sure that you’re breathing, and you can _definitely_ feel the two probably-aliens staring you down.

ID: LIM _P_ _ **6**_

 ****HT: 5’4”

WT: 168LBS

C: LIME

BT: B+

STATUS: HEALTHY

You step back to the control panel and beckon Brown back onto the platform before pressing the button again. The scan actually goes all the way up and down this time, but the results are glitchy and nearly impossible to read. They step off the platform and you all look at the results, but there’s a feeling in the air that reminds you of the eerie moments before lightning strikes.

̴̖̂̚I̴̧̭̺̹͇̅Ḑ̸͓̬͑̋͂:̸̠̲̜̦͍̽ ̴͎̟̭̎̚Ḇ̶̈́͒R̶͇͍̈́̌̒O̶̤͖̿ _P̵̨̝͒͘_ _ **9̵̟̕**_

̴͇̗͐̑͆͐Ĥ̴̟̾͜T̷̪̻̫̰͛̅͝ͅ:̶̨̹̺͔̖͝ ̶͚̞̾̂̌͠5̸̰͊̚'̸̨͙̤̹̈́8̷̘̭͎̹̲̊́̎̚"̵̤͉̞̺̎̈́͜

̸̧͘͝W̵̫͈͉͋T̶̛̥͋̈́͌̈́:̸̤̂̄ ̴͔̆̆̿͛͝1̷͔̼͖̥̝̄͌9̴̡̢͚̲͈̓7̶͈̳̑L̴̢̛̪̻͈͔̽B̵̰̪̱̗̞̌͂̆S̶̛̝̖

̷̖͈̲̖̈́̊͝C̵̨̥̙͈͑̾:̶̺̟̲͖̟͛́͛ ̴̜̼̹̅̐̃̕̕B̷̡͎̱̥̏Ŕ̶̢̥̜̺̮͑Ỏ̴̞͖̱̟̕W̴̧̥̤̭͉͋̾̿̚Ṅ̶͍̉

B̶͉̝̤̰̳̔̔̀̄T̷͎̤̲̬͐̿̔̈́:̴̢̤̃̈́͆̿ ̸͓̰̼͐̈̏̒?̸̫̏͑?̸̳̬̮͌͜?̴̖͌̈́͌̿̚͜ͅ

S̸̯͐͒T̸͖͆Ă̷̲̥̈́͛̋T̸͈̆͒̓Ų̵̡̯̱̾̈S̶̲̬̺̮̋:̶̛̛̼͂̄ ̴̢̳͖̠̽͘È̶̳͙̓͐̈́R̵̪̙̯͗R̸͎̩̹̰̈̀͊͂O̴͚̳̎̒R̵͈͔̝̔̈́̎

Your body is frozen with tension and you look at the others with only your eyes. They’re just as stiff as you are, and none of you make a sound for a few minutes. Eventually, you manage to speak, but you can’t hide your stammer.

“I-I’ll uh. T-try to. Wr-write it down? Yeah, um. P-pink? Your turn?”

“I-I’m not sure that’s a good idea right now, Lime,” she says a little too quickly, taking a step back. “We don’t want the, uh, scanner to… Explode? Yeah, that...”

“No one else is up,” you remind her, surprising yourself. “I-if you’re going to stab- _scan!_ Scan, n-no one will know until m-morning.”

The looks Pink and Brown are giving you remind you distinctly of deer in the headlights.

_Reeeaaal smooth, Julia,_ you chastise yourself. _You’re_ _ **definitely**_ _gonna die now. Fuck._

But you don’t die. You think you’re about to when several pink and brown tentacles ( _actual fucking tentacles holy shit_ ) bind you and knock your helmet off in the process. One of them clamps around your mouth. They don’t hurt, you notice. It feels as if they’re trying to subdue you, or maybe they’re trying to stop you from causing a scene, and judging from the panicked breathing of the definitely-aliens, they aren’t _actually_ trying to kill you. You cease your instinctive struggling.

“L-look, Lime,” Pink begins, rigid with tension. There’s a quiver in her voice. “We aren’t here to kill you or whatever it is your higher-ups tell you.”

“We’re here to study your species,” Brown adds in, quiet and strained. “You’re new to us and we want to learn what we can about you. If we lash out, it’s typically in self-defense.”

“You _can’t_ tell anyone, though, o-okay? We don’t know the others very well, and we’d rather not die.”

They’re staring you down like they’re waiting for an answer, but you can’t exactly speak at the moment. You wiggle your head a little and try to use your body language to tell them to ungag you. When that fails, you resort to Plan B… Poking the tentacle with your tongue (which tastes super weird, like... cannibal calamari or something. Whatever that means.) Brown squeaks in surprise and releases their grip on your mouth and you greedily take in air. You make a series of weird writhing movements, trying to get the taste out of your mouth, before actually speaking.

“I-I won’t tell anyone. Y-you can trust me. Patient confidentiality.” You swallow nervously, watching them closely. It takes a few minutes, but they hesitantly release you from their grip, and you hunch over in relief when they do.

“S-sooo… Uh,” you stammer, picking up your helmet and putting it back on. “...why did you turn off the lights whenever I was about to walk in on you?”

_Of all the_ _**stupid** _ _things I could ask-_

“A-actually, it’s because of these,” Brown begins, wiggling a few of their tentacles. “When we need to get warm or soothe ourselves, we wrap these around each other. It’s something our species does- we call it a comfort puddle.”

“That’s...” You let your voice trail off, surprised. “...Kind of adorable?” You put a hand on your hip and tilt your head. “So you were just… hiding your tentacles?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Pink says, moving some of hers to wrap around Brown’s.

_And here I thought they were fooling around. Shame on me_ _and my dirty little mind_ _._

“Well… I guess you don’t have to hide them around me anymore. Heh.” You laugh a bit nervously, rubbing the back of your neck and looking down. “Is it… Is it okay if I still cuddle with you guys? Er… Join your comfort puddles? They’re… _really_ cozy.”

And just like that, the tension in the room dissolves. Pink smiles softly at you (though you’re not sure if she knows what the gesture means, or if it’s just something she’s picked up from you). Brown sags against her in relief and chuckles a little. You find yourself mimicking both their actions simultaneously.

“Of course you can,” Pink says.

“You’re our friend, aren’t you?” Brown has a gentle look on their face.

“I am.” You can’t help it. You step toward them both and put an arm around each of them, pulling them into a group hug. They seem a bit surprised, but you can’t tell if it’s because they aren’t used to being hugged by non-impostors, or if it’s because you’re initiating the contact. The confusion doesn’t last long, and they wrap their arms (and tentacles) around you in a pleasantly tight way.

_M_ _an,_ you think, melting into the comfort puddle, _Who would’ve thought that alien cuddles were the best cure for being cold?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y’all are curious, Brown’s weight in the scan shows up as “197lbs,” their blood type says “???,” and their status says “error.” Everything else shown is in the refs chapter.
> 
> So like. The impostors look like average humans when they’re in their suits, but they have tentacles. Hence “cannibal calamari.” (I don’t know, that was the first thing to come to mind when I wrote that section jfdldjslk)
> 
> Happy holidays!


	3. Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyan shows Purple what’s in their sketchbook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a fluffy little thing that takes place sometime between chapters 4 and 7, so they don’t know each other’s real names yet (and Cyan is in denial about their crush). Hope you enjoy!

**Flowers**

Your name is Cyan, and you’re the communications officer on the Skeld.

When you’re not monitoring the lines, or when it’s slow (which is always), you draw.

(You’re pretty sure you packed at least a library’s worth of sketchbooks when you were finally assigned to a ship, and by now, at least a quarter of them are filled.)

You like drawing, and you’ve gotten good at it over the years. You’ll draw just about anything, from people to plant-life, and even that damn roomba if it stays still long enough. Lately, you’ve taken to drawing Purple, since the alien has started visiting you on a daily basis. They’ve quickly become your second favorite subject with their distinctly non-human features. Sometimes you try to sketch them as if they’re on a sunny beach back on Earth, or laying in a field of flowers.

(You always love how those turn out.)

Your favorite thing to draw, however, is flowers.

Your parents were florists, so you would sit for hours in their shop after school and during breaks, trying to capture the delicate placements and patterns of petals and the way the sunlight would soak into them. You always placed in the top three whenever your school would have art competitions, and there was a wall dedicated to your work in a corner of your parents’ shop.

The reason you took this job, working on the Skeld, in _space_ , was partly because you wanted to experience the stars up close (and maybe sketch out some planets), but mostly because of the pay. The money for taking this assignment is supposed to be pretty good, and you have hopes of opening up a little art shop or gallery of your own when you finally go home.

It’s your dream, after all.

\----------------------

Purple is visiting again. It’s the second time today, but you’re not going to complain about good company (especially when that company is someone as cute as Purple).

“Hello, Cyan,” they greet with a small awkward wave. “I apologize if I am interrupting anything.”

“Nah, you’re good.” You grin at them, gesturing to the chair you’d grabbed for them during your last bathroom break. They smile back and sit down, tilting their head.

_Shit, that’s cute. Why is this alien so damn precious, it’s so unfair._

“I am glad that my presence is welcome, then. Are you drawing? May I see?”

“Uhh,” you hope they can’t see you blushing as you try to make a hasty excuse. “Not this one- it’s not done yet.”

_There. Now I won’t have to explain that I’m drawing them holding a bouquet. That would be embarrassing._

Purple looks a little disappointed at your denial, but covers it quickly with a pleasant smile and a nod. Now you feel kinda bad for saying no, so you rummage around in the desk for one of your completed sketchbooks, eyeing each one critically while you try to remember which ones would be safe ( _not_ embarrassing) to show Purple. It takes a minute, but you finally offer one of the books to them with another smile.

“You can look through this one, though. It’s full of flowers- if you want me to tell you any more about the ones you see in it, just let me know, okay? I don’t know what kinds of flora are on your planet, but it’s probably not the same stuff that Earth has.”

“Ah! Thank you.” Purple makes a noise of delight and carefully begins to page through the book. They make soft chirping sounds when they see a picture they really like and it makes you feel warm inside every time. It brings about a realization in the form of gay panic, and the rational part of your mind starts to argue with the part that’s in denial.

_Ohhhh shit. Do I have a crush on Purple?_

_Of course you do, you idiot,_ the rational part points out. _People don’t just draw one specific friend this often. You could probably fill two and a half books with how many_ _times_ _you’ve drawn them._

You mentally groan.

_Fuck,_ _you’re right._ _I think I do._

A tap on your arm brings you out of your thoughts. Purple is tilting their head, their hand resting gently on one of the pages. They withdraw the tentacle that tapped you.

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“O-oh. Yeah, don’t worry about me,” you grin in what you hope is a reassuring way. “I’m just tired.”

“If you insist.” Purple looks back down at the page and quietly squeaks out an “oh” before looking back up at you. “I forgot to ask… What type of flower is this?”

You crane your neck to look at the page.

“That’s holly. In the language of flowers, it means ‘defense’ or ‘domestic happiness.’”

“Flora on your planet can speak?”

“No! Haha, no, no, they can’t actually speak!” You can’t help but laugh at the surprised hitch in Purple’s voice. It’s cute as hell. You rub their shoulder in a comforting way when they look embarrassed.

“Ah… My mistake,” they mumble, ducking their head a little and flipping a few pages back.

“Don’t worry about it,” you’re smiling. “Any others?”

“Yes, what about this one?”

“That’s my favorite flower, actually. It’s periwinkle- also known as myrtle.”

“It looks lovely. What does it say?” There’s a pause and Purple’s cheeks have darkened a little in further embarrassment. “I mean… What does this ‘periwinkle’ represent in the floral language?”

“Love. But it’s usually overshadowed by the much more popular red rose.”

“Fascinating.”

Things are silent for a bit after that, save for the sounds of page-flipping and internal screaming (on your part). Purple gently prods your arm again when they’re done looking through the sketchbook and you pluck it from their hand. They look pleased, and you think you hear them purring. ( _Fuck,_ that’s adorable. You didn’t know that impostors were capable of making that sound, and you think you could get used to it. Despite your love for dogs, you’ve always been a cat person.)

“Thank you for permitting me to view your art,” Purple says. They seem like they want to say something else, but they’re hesitant. With some gentle prodding of your own, you get them to ask their question.

“Cyan… You seem highly knowledgeable when it comes to this ‘floral language.’ May I ask which flowers would suit me?”

“E-excuse me?”

Of all the things Purple could ask, you weren’t expecting that.

“I feel as if you know my personality quite well by now, and I am curious as to which of your flora would represent me properly,” they pause to clear their throat, “Ah, that is to say, please express your opinion of me through flowers, if you would like to attempt drawing such a thing. If not… Could you possibly write them down? And then show me images of them, maybe.”

Purple is so painfully awkward and adorable that you can hardly refrain from scooping them into a hug for cuddles. Instead, you grab one of their hands and pat it, smiling widely.

_Fuck, I've got it bad._

“Oh! Yeah, sure. I’ll have to draw that out at some point. It might take a while, though.”

(It won’t. You haven’t drawn the flowers into the bouquet of your current WIP yet, so you can just… add them in. And wait to give it to Purple until you come to terms with this crush of yours.)

“Wonderful!”

Their smile is so bright that you can only compare it to the sunniest day of winter, reflecting off the endless snow and blinding you. You love it. Purple seems like they want to speak more, or maybe hug you (which you would welcome with open arms), but alas, fate has other plans. Yellow passes by the door and pokes her head in.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?”

_Kinda, yeah._

“Nah, do you need something, or are you just saying hi?” You hope your tone isn’t coming off as rude, but you suppose it doesn’t really matter if it is. She _did_ kinda barge in, after all.

“Yeah, I was hoping Purple would help me track down Stabby Jr. I haven’t seen him in a while and I’m worried.”

“Oh, yes, of course! I’d be happy to help,” Purple says. They give you that smile again and you melt a little inside. “Thank you for permitting me to look through one of your books. I’d like to do this again sometime.”

“No problem. I’ll keep this extra chair in here for you, so you can join me anytime.” You grin at them as they walk away, and you wave at each other. Yellow gives you a _look_ once Purple is out of hearing range and you start internally screaming again (this time in frustration).

“Don’t worry, ya big softie,” she winks and you want to throw something at her. “I’m not trying to steal your precious alien datefriend. They’re not my type anyway.”

Your fragile restraint is broken and you throw your little plastic pencil sharpener at her. She starts cackling like the madwoman she is, and runs off toward storage. You huff and face-plant into your desk with a drawn-out groan. Of course _Yellow,_ of all the people on this ship, would be the one to pick up on your crush when you’ve barely admitted it to yourself. _Of course._ After a few minutes of your self-pity party, you sigh and sit back up.

You’ve got a drawing to work on, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels like word vomit, but I wanted to write something fluffy here. (And also slip a little something in here as very subtle foreshadowing for the eventual sequel. You probably won’t know what it is until it’s posted, but I wanted to put it here anyway.)
> 
> I used this for my flower language references: http://thelanguageofflowers.com/
> 
> If anyone’s curious, the flowers that got drawn into the bouquet are:
> 
> Acacia blossom: concealed love; chaste love  
> Camellia (pink): longing for you  
> Camellia (white): you’re adorable  
> Ivy: friendship; affection  
> Lily-of-the-valley: sweetness; humility  
> Myrtle/periwinkle: love  
> Orange blossom: innocence  
> Spider flower: elope with me  
> Tulip (variegated): beautiful eyes  
> Zinnia (white): goodness
> 
> The myrtle/periwinkle is front and center, and the spider flower is mostly hidden behind the rest, because Cyan’s a little bit embarrassed about it. They give Purple the drawing after admitting their crush in late chapter 7, but before the journal entry at the end.


	4. Triangles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red tries to figure out where they stand with Black and Pink. (Happy Valentine's Day!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a Valentine’s Day special! I was afraid it would be a bit late, since I decided on a whim to write this the _day before,_ ehehehehe. Takes place sometime after chapter 6, but before chapter 9. Hope you enjoy!

**Triangles**

Your name is Red, and you’re the head of security on the Skeld.

(Your name isn’t _really_ Red, it’s Ash, but MIRA doesn’t want you sharing that information. Something about not letting people get attached to you? Whatever.)

A week and a half ago, your crew took in a stray from another ship.

A _week_ ago, that stray turned out to be an impostor that _attacked you._

(...And she hasn’t apologized yet.)

Sure, you were ready to throw hands when she attacked, but she snuck up on you and you just couldn’t… Well. Nevermind. You’re embarrassed enough as it is (and kind of guilty, if truth be told) that another impostor (that you were awful to) had to save your sorry ass.

It just pisses you off that Pink hasn’t _apologized_ for trying to _stab you in the face._

With a _weird alien tongue._

(It wasn’t as hot as it sounds, unfortunately. Even if it _were,_ you don’t exactly make a habit out of making out with _hostile_ _fucking aliens._ )

You hope Pink says she’s sorry soon. You’re one of the most stubborn people on this ship, and you refuse to go to her for this. She should come to _you._

\--------------------------

Black is trailing after Pink.

It’s just after breakfast, and Pink is on her way to therapy (she hasn’t spoken a _word_ to you since her attack) and Black is following her like a lost puppy. You think it would be pretty adorable, actually, if you weren’t still angry with her target. Lime meets Pink just outside of medbay, and the siblings disappear into the room, the door sliding shut behind them. Black heaves a sigh, caught somewhere between disappointed and lovestruck (and isn’t _that_ a weird thought).

“Black, what the _hell_ are you doing?”

“R-Red! Hey, uh, what’s up?” Black trots over a bit stiffly. You think she’s embarrassed at being caught stalking a pretty alien. (Shit, no, wait, you _did not_ just mentally call Pink pretty. Nope.)

“Uh-uh, no. I asked you first. Why the hell are you following _her_ around like… like… a twitterpated fawn?”

“I-I was _not!_ ”

“Sure, whatever, _Bambi._ ” You roll your eyes. “I’m serious, though. It might be dangerous to flirt with these people. What if they’re like… Human-sized praying mantises? We don’t know what their, ugh, _mating habits_ are. If you sleep with her, you might end up decapitated.”

“Red, jeeze! That’s really rude of you!” She huffs and crosses her arms, glaring at you through the visor. “I actually asked Lime about that the other day. He said he’s too young to be _interested_ in people, but from what he’s seen on his home planet, bonded pairs, or groups, are very sweet with each other. From the way he described it, it’s a lot like how us humans are, but they like.” Black pauses, an eyebrow raising. “’Mate for life’ isn’t exactly right, but… He said it’s rare for bonded ones to split up. It’s not impossible, but it does happen. Rarely.”

“So they’re alien swans, big deal.”

It fits. Impostors and swans are dangerous.

(And very pretty.)

(...Damn it.)

“What’s your problem, Red?” Black scowls. “I get that Pink attacked you, but why are you still being so salty? It’s been a week, I’m sure she’s apologized by now.”

“...She hasn’t, actually.” You look away, toward the camera. You should _probably_ get to security… Anywhere else, really, as long as it’s _not right here._

“...Oh.” She shifts awkwardly and you feel a little bad for snapping. “You should tell White. She’s probably the only one on this ship, aside from Lime and Purple, that Pink will take advice from at this point.”

“...I’ll keep that in mind,” you mutter, turning away to go down the hall. There’s a few seconds of silence before Black’s footsteps skitter after you, and she grabs your arm. Her touch tingles pleasantly.

“Red, Pink isn’t that bad, honestly.” Her voice is quiet. “She’s probably going to feel _awful_ when she realizes she hasn’t apologized yet. So when she comes to you… Just keep that in mind, okay?”

You sigh heavily, slumping in defeat. Damn Black and her sweetness.

“...Yeah, okay, fine.”

You pull your arm out of her grip and continue on to security.

\--------------------------

It’s almost dinnertime when you finally drag yourself away from your area to talk to White. She’s shocked by your information and promises to pass the message along to Pink at the next therapy session. When you ask why she’s waiting until tomorrow, she just smiles and tells you that you seem like a “very private person” who wouldn’t appreciate a scene at dinner with the rest of the crew watching. Reluctantly, you admit she has a point, and you walk into the cafeteria together.

You do a lot of thinking while you’re laying in bed that night. There’s a small part of you that’s jealous, and you can’t tell if it’s for Black or Pink. Maybe both, but you’re not sure you’re ready to admit that, even to yourself.

Black is kind and understanding, and she’s really cute when she’s flustered. Her personality compliments yours, you think. You’ve only grown to like her more with every day you spend on the Skeld, and you may or may not be in denial about crushing on her.

Pink is…

Well. She’s pretty. _Really_ pretty. Like a jewelry store or an art show, or maybe the northern lights back home. Beautiful and untouchable. And there’s just something about her that draws you in... You try not to let it, though, too hurt by her lack of apology. Plus, Black has basically already called dibs. That hurts, too.

(You sure as hell aren’t going to tell Erin- Yellow- about this. Your childhood friend would _never_ let you live it down.)

(...Maybe you’ll say something to her tomorrow. She’s a horrible gossip, but she’s always been weirdly good at relationship advice.)

You groan softly and roll onto your stomach, burying your face in your pillow.

It’s going to be a long night.

\-----------------------

When Lime, Pink, and by extension, Black, leave the cafeteria after breakfast, you tag along after Erin. She seems excited to spend time with you, mentioning that it’s been a while. You feel bad about that, and can’t help but admit she’s right. You apologize to her, and she grins widely at you.

“Wow, Ash, you _never_ say sorry that quickly. Are you feeling okay? Maybe you should go see White.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Erin cackles as you shove her, skipping to catch back up with your longer strides. You can’t help but smile. Even something as simple as being in your old friend’s presence makes you feel better. It reminds you of hot summer days and watergun fights and comic books in treehouses; cold winter nights with mugs of steaming cocoa in front of a fake fireplace while blizzards raged outside the window.

(Something inside of you is raging like one of those old snowstorms, and you hope Erin can be your fireplace.)

“C’mon, Ashy,” Erin nudges you with her elbow, welcoming. “Something is _obviously_ on your mind. You know you can tell me anything.”

You sigh and absently rub the spot she nudged you. You’re reluctant to say anything, but she’s your _friend_ and you know you can trust her, no matter how embarrassing your secrets may be.

“Well…” you begin slowly.

Erin pulls you into shields and over to a spot where you can easily see all paths into the room, and you’re grateful for it. Both of you sit down.

“Ashyyy. Just say it, I’m not gonna judge you.”

You sigh again, this time more loudly than necessary. It makes your friend laugh and you crack a grin.

“...So I may or may not like someone.”

Erin gasps dramatically and her eyes light up.

“Holy _shit,_ Ash! Last time you told me about a crush, we were graduating middle school. So spill! Who is it? Who do I have to subtly nudge in your direction? I’ll be the best wingman on this ship, damn it.”

“Erin,” you laugh, feeling lighter already, “You’re _already_ the best wingman.”

“Damn right I am.”

The two of you giggle like schoolkids, hands over your mouths.

“For real, though,” she says again, face straightening into something serious. “Who is it?”

“Well…” You can feel your face heating up in embarrassment. “’Who is it’ doesn’t quite cover it… Try ‘who are _they._ ’”

“More than one?! Ashhhhhh. Come on, spill!”

“Fine, fine,” you stick your tongue out and Erin mimics the action, sending you both into another laughing fit. “It’s Black. And… and Pink, but I’m mad at her, so she doesn’t count right now.”

“...She still hasn’t apologized, has she?”

“...No. I’ll be sure to let you know when she does, though.”

Because if White hasn’t forgotten, it’s definitely more of a _when._

“Well,” Erin tilts her head, “what’s the problem?”

“How do I-” you purse your lips, cutting yourself off. You hum in thought a little, staring down the still-empty corridors. “How do I choose who I focus this crush on?”

“Oh, Ash,” Erin puts her hands on your shoulders, turning you so you face each other. Very seriously, she continues. “We’re adults now, and we’re not stuck under our parents’ opinions. If you like both of them, tell them both and see if they’re interested in polyamory.”

“And… If they’re not…?”

“You’ll all figure it out together, I’m sure. Plus,” Erin smiles, and it’s unusually gentle for her. “I can confirm that Black would be open to it. Her room is right next to mine, and sometimes we stay up late talking. Pink, though… I have no idea.”

“Black mentioned something about that, actually,” you remember, holding up your index finger. “She asked Lime about impostor mating habits,” you shudder and your friend snickers, “and he told her that there are bonded _pairs_ and bonded _groups_. If I can get the stick out of my ass, I think Pink would be open to it, too.” You pause and duck your head, rubbing your neck sheepishly. “That is, uh. If she’s interested in us, too. Either of us.”

“There you go, that’s the spirit,” your friend winks and nudges your shoulder playfully. Her eyes shift down the hall to storage, but they’re back on you just as quickly. “Well, I need to go check the engines, and make sure they’re in good shape.” She stands up, offering a hand to help you up. You accept it, though considering how short she is, it doesn’t do much.

“Thanks, Erin. This helped a lot.” You smile at your friend and she salutes you playfully, heading toward the hall leading to weapons. You raise an eyebrow. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“I just feel like going the long way around this time,” she says a bit too quickly. You’re confused until you hear someone step into the room from storage. Erin has a wicked grin on her face, and she waves to you before running off with a hasty goodbye. You shake your head fondly, turning toward your visitor.

It’s Pink.

Your blood simultaneously freezes and sizzles like lightning. Silently, you curse your friend for running off on you.

_Damn it, Erin._

(You silently thank her a little, too.)

\-------------------------

“Red,” Pink begins, and her (unfairly pretty) eyes are watering a little.

“...Pink.” You nod in acknowledgment. The impostor looks like she wants to reach out to you and makes an aborted movement to do so, before cradling her hands against her chest.

“I… I wanted to apologize. For attacking you,” she’s awkward and ~~adorable~~ speaking a little fast, but your heart thumps at her words. “A-and for taking so long to apologize. I… I didn’t even realize I hadn’t yet, and when I did, I thought you’d be too mad at me to listen, and then White reminded me today and-”

“ _Pink,_ shut up,” your tone is soft rather than harsh, but the impostor flinches all the same. You feel kind of bad about that, but take a step toward her (only one, though). “I was pretty mad, yeah, but not for the attack. I was mad that you were taking _so long_ to say something, though.”

“...I’m sorry,” Pink shrinks into herself, voice barely a squeak. “I… don’t want us to be enemies.”

“...I don’t either,” you mutter, fidgeting with the fabric of your suit against your sides. “I forgive you.”

Pink makes an odd sound between a sob and a laugh, something filled with so much hope and relief that it makes you dizzy. She moves like she wants to reach out again, and, steeling your pride, you open your arms to welcome a hug. It takes her a second to recognize the invitation, but soon your arms are filled with happy alien.

It feels… nice.

Footsteps coming down the hall from weapons abruptly stop, and both of you look over to see Black. She’s standing, motionless, in the doorway, clearly surprised. There’s a brief time where she begins to take a step back almost sadly, before you release one of your arms from Pink and invite Black into the hug. She freezes up, and your heart beats hard again. Pink glances at you and mimics the action, pulling her arm away. Black makes a pleased, hopeful sound and runs into the embrace, somehow managing to knock you and Pink down. Pink is the first one to start laughing, followed by Black. A big smile starts to creep onto your face and you join them.

Maybe… Just maybe, you can make this work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title, “Triangles,” references the fact that it’s considered the strongest shape, and consists of three sides/points, and this is a poly ship, so… Ahem. Made sense to me, anyway.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	5. First Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humanity makes first contact with impostors. It doesn’t go well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I’m still working on the epilogue, don’t worry. It’s giving me some trouble, and I’ve kind of been taking a break from it, but it’s still about halfway done! (The Stardew Valley 1.5 update hit the Nintendo Switch so I’ve been playing that. I’ve also been toying with the idea of making an Okami D&D campaign for my group, and I’m starting with figuring out the character creation details for it.)
> 
> Anyway! I was inspired to write this by a comment left on Chapter 11 of the main story. When I was responding, I thought “what if I wrote the very first contact between humans and Phiri?” And here we are! Hopefully this goes well. It takes place a few years (a decade or so) before the main story and plays out more like a standard game of Among Us, with its own twists in the form of how I write impostors/Phiri.
> 
> This might be the only story in this series that’s in third person! I couldn’t decide who to write the POV in, so I picked both.
> 
> Note: Anau’s (ah-now/orange suit) name comes from _danaus plexippus,_ the monarch butterfly, whereas Docim’s (doh-seem/red suit) name comes from _eudocimus ruber,_ the scarlet ibis.
> 
> Warning for some xenophobia and quite a bit of swearing, both of which mostly come from the same person. There's also a mention of vomiting at one point in the second half.

**First Contact**

The _Venus_ is a small ship, clearly not meant to hold the ten people who currently call it home, and because of this, some of them have to share rooms. Docim, straightening his red helmet in the mirror, thinks that the _Venus_ could only fit six people comfortably. Maybe.

Anau says otherwise, pulling on his orange gloves next to his brother, Docim. He thinks the less people on board, the better.

Anau has always been distrustful and uneasy by Phiri standards, whereas Docim has always been, well, _standard_. Easygoing and calm. Between the two of them, neither really wants to be on this mission, but curiosity is a powerful thing, and these new creatures (Terrans, they’ve heard), pique that curiosity. The first part of their mission, infiltration, has been successful.

The second part, observation… is about to begin.

\---------------------------

It’s the dawn of the first day of work on the _Venus,_ and Docim is nervous. Boarding the ship had been the easy part; he and Anau had changed their forms and crept in with the ten-person crew, choosing a couple of Terrans to impersonate to get a better feel for the species. Their targets are currently tied up in a lower section of the ship, which the brothers found via vent-hopping the night before.

Anau, overly cautious, had wanted to kill them, but Docim wouldn’t let him. (They’re _Phiri,_ they don’t just… _kill_ on a whim!) Docim _also_ wouldn’t let Anau gag them, uncertain as to whether the species used their mouths for breathing. After several minutes of debate, the brothers had finally settled on simply tying the Terrans together at the wrists, back-to-back.

So, Docim is worried. The crew is enjoying a morning meal, and he sneaks a couple of extra pouches to feed to the ones tied up downstairs. The one in charge, someone in a brown suit, says something about sending task lists to the crew’s tablets. Docim doesn’t quite know what kinds of tasks these are meant to be, but he’ll try his best. _After_ he feeds the real Red and Orange.

He’s _worried_ because it means leaving Anau, who has notoriously poor impulse control, on his own. So he pulls his brother aside while the crew departs for their tasks.

“ _Behave yourself_ , Anau,” he reminds with a light glare. “We are here to _study,_ and nothing more.”

“I _know,_ Docim. I’ll try not to do anything stupid.”

“...That’s the best I’m going to get from you, isn’t it?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Docim sighs and shakes his head, moving toward the nearest vent.

“ _Please_ don’t make me regret leaving you on your own.”

\--------------------

The lower levels are dark and warm, but not uncomfortably so. At least, Docim _hopes_ it’s not uncomfortable for the Terrans down here. He uncovers the vent and slips out of it, looking over to the new species. They’re both looking around, having heard the metal move, but he thinks they may be unable to see where the sound came from. Docim tilts his head and approaches.

“Does your species have difficulty seeing in the dark?” He asks, pausing a few steps away from them. They squint their eyes and startle a little when they see how close he is.

“Like fuck we’ll tell you,” growls Real Orange.

“Um, yes, actually,” mutters Real Red at the same time. Real Orange huffs in annoyance.

“We don’t need to tell the _aliens_ that _kidnapped us_ that!”

“And _I_ told _you_ when we woke up down here that I _fucking hate_ the dark!”

“Do you… Want me to find you a lantern…?” Docim offers awkwardly, crouching down to their level. “I apologize for… kidnapping? You, but we didn’t know how you’d react to us asking to study you.”

“Not fucking well, that’s for sure-”

“I would _love_ a lantern, thank you.”

“You’re _not helping_ , kid.”

“I… will try to find a lantern for you.” Docim rustles around in his pocket and pulls out the two meal packets, screwing the caps off. “But before that, I brought you something to eat. I took a couple of extras when the crew was gathered for the waking meal to bring to you.”

“Aw, man, we missed breakfast?” Real Red sighs. “What flavors did you get?”

“Why the hell are you so calm about this?!” Real Orange shouts, violently jerking in their bindings. Docim opens his mouth to say something, but chooses not to reward the aggressive behavior with a response.

“Um, let me see…” He lifts one of the packets up to his face and tries to make out the words. “This one says… Pan-cakes and syr-up?” He moves to check the other packet. “And this one is… Bis-cuits and gra-vy? I don’t know what either of those are. What are your preferences?”

“I’ll take the biscuits and gravy one, thanks,” Real Red shows their teeth, but it doesn’t seem aggressive. Docim asks what that gesture means. “What? The thing with my teeth? It’s a smile. We do it to express ourselves. It usually means we’re happy.”

“Fascinating,” Docim attempts one of these gestures but stops once he remembers that the Terrans can’t see him very well down here. Embarrassed, he lifts the requested meal packet to Real Red’s mouth with a tendril and squeezes some of the heavily processed food out, little-by-little. Real Orange hears this and jerks again.

“Why are you eating what that alien is giving you?! It could be poisoned!”

“First of all,” Real Red huffs, licking their lips. “He’s being polite. _Way_ more polite than we- _you_ \- would be if the situation was reversed. Plus, he doesn’t seem to know much about us, since he’s here to _study_ us, so how would he know what kind of poisons would harm us? I’m sure if he wanted us dead, we would be.”

“Oh, I’m not the one who wants you dead,” Docim chimes in softly, naively. “My brother wanted to kill you because he’s worried you’ll retaliate if you get loose. I wouldn’t let him, though. Our people don’t just… _harm_ or _maim_ others for the fun of it.” He looks down. “Which is why I’m going to track him down after I feed you. I don’t trust him to be alone for long here.” He nudges the meal packet’s spout against Real Red’s lips again, and the Terran finishes the contents of the pouch. He tries to get Real Orange to eat as well, but fails when the Terran refuses to open their mouth. Docim puts the cap back on and stands.

“I’m going to find that lantern for you, and make sure my brother hasn’t done anything stupid. I’ll return after the next meal with more packets for you, and hopefully a light source.”

\---------------------

Several minutes after the alien leaves, the real Red and Orange start talking.

“Why the _fuck_ were you acting so chummy with that thing?” Orange grumbles.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Red says, and there’s a smile in his tone. “He- at least I _think_ that one’s a he- seems like a big pushover. _Super_ trusting. If we play nice- and by _we,_ I mean _you,_ since I’m a delight- he might slip up enough to undo our bindings. When that happens, we stay down here and look around for something we can use to knock him out or kill him. When that’s over, we can get out of here and report this to HQ. Do you see my point here?”

“...Yeah, yeah, it’s a good plan. Would’ve been nice for you to give me a heads-up, though.”

“How could I do that when I didn’t even think of it until the alien was talking to us? Speaking of the alien, what should we call him? Or, his species, I guess.”

Orange says nothing in response for a few minutes.

“...Did you see how it looked?” He begins slowly. “It was hard to see, since it’s so fucking dark down here, but that thing looked just like you. I think they’re shape-shifters.”

“What, so they can fake the appearance of other species? Well, shit. That seems dangerous. For us. Maybe we should call ‘em like… Chameleon aliens. Chamelaliens.”

“Red, that’s dumb as shit. We already have words for fakers.”

This time, Red doesn’t say anything, raising an eyebrow even though Orange can’t see it. Orange huffs in annoyance.

“ _Impostor,_ idiot. That’s what we can call these things. And we know there are two of them, since this one wouldn’t shut up about its brother. So, we have two _impostors_ on the ship.”

“Oooh, yeah, that sounds _way_ better than Chamelaliens. Good job.”

Orange releases a long-suffering groan and Red snickers.

\-----------------------

Anau might be having a breakdown, he thinks. He doesn’t understand the tasks he’s meant to do, and keeps failing whenever he tries to do them. What’s a distributor, and how does one calibrate it anyway?! He’s been here for half an hour already, and just when he thinks he’s got the first one down, he fails the second one and the first one resets. He’s about ready to start crying in frustration.

“Do you need help?”

Anau does _not_ lash out when the voice startles him, doesn’t even fling his tendrils out or anything. He thinks Docim would be proud of him for that.

Still, he doesn’t say anything. Cyan, next to the doorway huffs softly and approaches.

“Look,” she begins, “you just need to get the timing right for this.” She presses the buttons at just the right times, and Anau’s muscles begin to relax. “See? Not too hard.”

Anau looks down at his tablet and breathes out in relief when the task is marked as complete. Right now, he’s not sure if he’s ever been more grateful for something in his life. He tries to thank her, but his words fail him. She bares her teeth at him and pats his arm and he can feel the tension return like an asteroid to the face.

Is she… _threatening_ him…? Exerting dominance? Or, worst of all, did she find out that he’s _not_ a Terran? Why else would she show her teeth so quickly? Anau gets whiplash from the sheer speed of the thoughts whirling through his head and Cyan takes a few steps back, teeth no longer showing.

“H-hey, man, are you okay…?”

Anau, feeling like he’s been mentally backed into a corner, suddenly wonders how durable Terrans are. He knows his breathing is erratic right now. He’s in danger, so why wouldn’t it be? He backs away from her, hand against the wall, and finds himself standing on top of a vent. He could just… Drop through, right? But then she’d _know,_ even though he’s pretty sure she already does, and it could ruin everything.

“Why are you so freaked out right now?” Cyan asks cautiously, moving closer. She’s a few feet away, but it’s still _too close._

It would be _so easy_ to get rid of the threat like he’d wanted to with the real Red and Orange. And Docim isn’t here to stop him…

Anau barely notices when he launches his true tongue like a harpoon. Cyan begins to scream, but the sound fades to a gurgle before the sound can fully escape, and within seconds, Anau has a twitching, dying Terran body at his feet. His breathing is still erratic and it only gets _worse_ when the fog clouding his mind starts to fade.

He just killed someone.

He just _killed someone._

There are footsteps outside.

_Now_ he’s panicking.

Anau rips the cover off the vent and tries to stuff Cyan’s body down it when White rounds the corner.

“Is everything okay? I thought I heard-” The Terran stops mid-sentence and starts shaking like Anau is. “Wh-what… What the fuck?! What _are_ you?!”

Anau's tongue is still out and coated in blood. White seems to notice this and looks down, crying out in alarm when they see Cyan’s hand sticking out of the vent. They start to back up, ready to sprint back to their pack.

Oh _no._

Anau tackles the Terran to the ground and drags the flailing creature into the corner with the vent, using several tendrils to stuff Cyan’s body further down while simultaneously using some to gag and bind White. They’re struggling harshly, so Anau impales this one, too, dumping the body in above Cyan’s. Once the bodies are down far enough, he replaces the vent cover and sits on top of it, knees up. No one will notice that two Terrans are gone, right?

...Right?

There are more footsteps.

Anau prepares himself to make a _third_ kill to keep he and his brother safe, and he knows he’s crying and panicking and having a breakdown and-

“Oh no,” Anau is caught somewhere between relief, horror, and guilt when he hears Docim’s voice. The latter’s eyes are wide with fear and worry when he sees the former’s condition and the blood splattered around him. “Anau, what have you _done?_ ”

“S-she threatened me!” The brother in orange manages. “Cyan! She b-bared her teeth and then I was cornered and so I reacted a-and then White saw and- and-” Anau chokes out a sobbing whine and hugs his knees.

“Bared her-? Oh, Anau…” Docim sighs and crouches down to wrap his arms and tendrils around his brother. “She _smiled_ at you. I asked the two downstairs about it. It’s a way of expressing positive emotion. She wasn’t threatening you.”

“B-but I thought…”

“I know… Now come on. We need to get out of here. We can’t be seen anywhere near a dead body, let alone _two_.” Docim helps Anau stand and the latter takes a few seconds to compose himself.

Carefully, the brothers sneak out of electrical.

\------------------------

By sheer luck, no one has noticed the bodies by the time the second meal rolls around. Anau has mostly calmed down by now and Docim has successfully gotten his hands on a lantern, which is sitting safely in their room. Hardly anyone mentions the lack of Cyan and White’s presence, either. The one time someone _does_ is when Pink brings it up. Green tells him that they’re probably still working on tasks, since it’s only day one and they’re still trying to figure things out. Pink accepts the answer easily and goes back to eating his lunch. Anau doesn’t bother opening his meal packet, choosing instead to absently squish around the contents.

“Is he okay?” Blue asks, gesturing to the orange brother.

“I think he’s just nervous being around so many new people,” Docim explains smoothly. “I’ll help him to our room so he can hopefully nap away the nerves.” He slurps down the rest of his packet and stands, offering a hand to Anau. “Come on, now. Some rest should calm you down.”

Anau stands and nods without a word, following easily. The rest of the crew returns to their aimless chatter, and the sound soon fades. Docim opens the door to their room and pulls his brother in, nudging him toward one of the beds.

“Go on, lay down. I’ll bring food later. For now, I’m going to try to move those bodies deeper into the vents, and run another meal to the others. Just. Stay here. Please.”

“...Are you mad at me?” Anau mumbles, clinging to the pillow for comfort.

Docim sighs.

“No, I’m not mad at you.” He runs a tendril down his brother’s side in a soothing way. “A bit disappointed since I told you _not_ to hurt anyone, but what’s done is done. At this point, my highest priority is keeping you safe.” Docim stands up and Anau shrinks into himself. “Look, I need to go. If someone else comes to the door, don’t answer it. Just pretend you’re asleep if you aren’t actually asleep. I _mean it_ this time.”

“...I’m sorry for disappointing you.”

“...I’ll be back soon enough, brother.”

Docim steps back into the hallway, lantern in hand, and walks toward medbay. Anau hugs himself tighter.

\----------------------

Cyan’s body is crumpled in such a way that Docim struggles to drag her deeper into the vents. He manages, but it takes significantly longer than he’d like, and then he notices a problem.

He’s close to where Real Red and Real Orange are. The lantern is off, thankfully, but the body will start stinking of decay soon enough, and he doesn’t particularly want the two of them to notice it that quickly. Thinking fast, he slips out of the vent into the lower area, ignoring the cries of surprise at the sound, and finds an old storage crate. The thing is big and empty and he isn’t entirely sure what it was there for in the first place, but he opens it up and drops the body into it, closing it back up. He’s a little exhausted from the effort, and hopes dearly that White’s corpse has slipped further down with the ship’s artificial gravity tugging at it. At least enough for him to take a quick breather. Once he’s satisfied with hiding the crate, he walks over to Real Red and Real Orange.

“I brought more food,” he says, setting the lantern on the opposite side of the Terrans from the crate. He flicks it on. “And the lantern.” Docim watches the two of them blink rapidly and squint at the sudden brightness.

“Fuck, my eyes…”

“Thanks, Fake Red,” Real Red smiles. “What flavors did you bring this time?”

“My name is Docim,” is the response, soft and awkward. “This time, the packets are… Supreme piz-za and tur-key club sand-wich.”

“Sign me up for the turkey club then, Docim, yum,” Real Red says cheerfully. Docim opens the packet and holds it up to Real Red’s mouth with a tendril like before, squeezing it out little-by-little. He tries to do the same for Real Orange, but the Terran snaps at him.

“Untie my hands, I can feed myself.”

Docim looks at them in surprise.

“You… Just want to feed yourself? Not get away?”

“Look, Dosey Doe, this is a matter of _pride._ I haven’t needed someone to spoon-feed me since I was a baby. You can tie me back up after I’m done if you’re that worried.”

“Oh. Well… I suppose that’s okay.” Docim does what he can to untie Real Orange while keeping Real Red bound. It’s difficult, but he manages. Real Orange snatches up the pack after rubbing their wrists, eating slowly and relishing their temporary freedom. When they’re done, Docim quickly ties them up again and stands.

“Aw, leaving already?” Real Red asks, and it sounds like they’re pouting. “It’s so _boring_ having just Orange for company. You’ll come back and visit soon, right?”

“Yes, of course,” Docim agrees as he walks. “The schedule showed that there’s another meal coming up in a few hours, so I’ll return then.”

“Oh good. Don’t forget about us, now. Thanks for the food and the light!”

Docim attempts to smile, but it comes out awkward and strained. He bids the Terran duo farewell and returns to the vents. He’s about halfway to White’s body when he realizes that Real ones will be able to see him when he brings the next body down. Silently, he curses himself, but keeps moving.

When Docim reaches the vent in electrical, he’s shocked to find that White’s body isn’t even there anymore.

\----------------------

Orange waits for the alien to be gone for a few minutes before he starts laughing like a madman.

“See,” Red points out smugly. “I told you that being nice would earn perks.”

“Oh, that’s not why I’m laughing, kid,” Orange says and his tone is both nasty and pleased.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“The impostor didn’t tie me up as tight this time. Seemed like it was in a hurry. I can get us both out of here.”

It takes a few minutes, but Orange gets himself and then Red untied. He picks up the lantern and starts looking around. The room they’ve been in since last night is big and empty, aside from a few old crates here and there. He wanders toward the vent where the impostor keeps coming in, and a glint of something on the floor catches in the light. Orange crouches down, lowering the light to get a better look at it. What he sees makes his gut churn.

“Hey, Red, come check this out.”

“What’d you find? I hope it’s a way out.”

“No, but it looks like blood.”

Red freezes up, paling. Whatever snarky remark was probably going to come out of his mouth dies in his throat. The younger man hurries over and crouches as well, a hand covering his mouth in horror.

“Holy shit,” is all he says.

“...Yeah. Same.” Orange looks around and sees a small cluster of crates nearby, with a thin trail of blood leading up to the one behind the others. He and Red exchange a look and approach. The lid looks to have been pulled up and then closed again, and Red puts a finger on his nose.

“Not it.”

“Fuck you,” Orange replies, but there’s no real bite to it for once. He hands the lantern to Red and works at opening the crate. They jerk backward when they finally get to see inside.

Their meal packets crawl back up their throats and end up on the floor. They close the crate again, saying nothing. In silent agreement, they look for some kind of exit.

\----------------------

They find a ladder and a hatch and begin to climb.

\----------------------

Docim practically launches himself out of the vent in electrical and sees a trail of blood leading away from it. He suddenly wonders if whatever wound Anau had inflicted on the Terran wasn’t as fatal as expected, and he fears that White may have dragged themselves out. Before he can get very far, a siren blares and the words “emergency meeting” pop up in the corner of his visor. Stomach churning, he makes his way to the cafeteria, wiping away every trace of blood on his person.

The Terrans look shaken, and even Anau is there, dropping into his seat half-asleep. Brown has a serious expression on her face, and her fists are clenched tightly enough to shake.

“White is seriously injured,” she begins solemnly. “Pink is with them in medbay, and they’re both excused from this meeting.”  
  


“How did White get hurt?” Green asks, voice wavering a little. Docim can feel his brother grow tense beside him and rubs his hand, trying to get him to calm down.

“They said something about a killer alien, and that Cyan is dead. Then they passed out from the blood loss.” Everyone looks queasy at this.

“Did… Did they say _who…_?” Blue questions, barely audible.

“No, unfortunately. I think they were going to, but then they were out cold.”

“Did they say where?” Docim asks, trying to blend in as much as he can.

“Electrical. We have to wait for them to wake up again before we get more details.”

_Well,_ he thinks grimly, _I guess we’ll have to kill White all the way. Probably Pink, too, since he’s watching over White… And whoever ends up on cams, since they’ll be able to see who goes in and out… Shit._

“Well…” Brown begins again. “Does anyone have any suspects in mind?”

“I’ve only seen Yellow at meals,” Black says in a deep voice. “I haven’t crossed paths with them at all during tasks.”

“What-?!” Yellow exclaims, standing and glaring at him. “I’ve been fixing wires and doing downloads all day! What about you, huh? I saw you skulking around in storage right before lunch-”

“Both of you need to calm down!” Brown shouts. “We are _adults_ and we’ll be civil _like adults._ Do I make myself clear?”

“...Yes, Captain,” Black and Yellow grumble together, still shooting each other glares whenever Brown isn’t looking.

“Well, I think it’s Orange,” Blue offers, shifting nervously. “He was acting weird at lunch. Red was too, actually…”

Docim feels himself grow cold inside and he clutches Anau’s hand more tightly. He opens his mouth to make an excuse, but a clanging sound reaches up from under the table. Everyone looks at each other before crouching down to see an old emergency hatch. There’s another bang against it, like someone is trying to get through, and the brothers freeze up when they realize that the only ones who were physically beneath them were…

Brown grabs the wheel on top of the hatch and turns it, putting all of her muscle into the spin. It unclasps with an airtight hiss and two people in nothing but underclothes crawl up out of it. Docim and Anau back up.

“We’re doomed,” Anau whispers, clinging tightly when the real Red and Orange heave themselves out from under the table. The two Terrans look around and point at the brothers accusingly.

“Those two are fakes!” Real Orange yells. “They’re _impostors!_ They knocked us out yesterday and tied us up in a lower level of the ship!”

“And we caught Fake Red over there hiding Cyan’s body in a crate. Found the blood trail and everything,” Real Red says. “He said his name’s Docim, by the way. That’s not any kind of human name _I’ve_ ever heard.”

Docim feels an unreasonable stab of betrayal at the callout. He’d been nothing but polite to Red, and the Terran- human?- reciprocated, or at least seemed to when they spoke.

“They’re brothers,” Real Orange adds, and the smile they’re wearing is far from friendly. “This ship has an airlock, right? We should throw them out of it. Let them suffocate and freeze to death.”

The seven humans seem to consider Real Orange’s words, and Docim finds himself agreeing with his brother’s statement.

_Doomed indeed._

The crew begins to advance.

“Anau,” he mutters. “I’m sorry for upsetting you earlier. I love you more than anything. I just.” Docim licks his lips and he can feel himself starting to cry. “I just want you to know that.”

“I love you too, Docim,” Anau responds softly, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry I messed up so badly. You were just cleaning up after me, you don’t deserve this fate.”

“You were acting on fear. I don’t blame you.” Docim swallows the lump in his throat, pulling his brother as they back up toward storage.

“...We should try to warn everyone back home,” Anau suggests. “Send out a distress signal to the nearest friendly planet. Terrans are… incredibly dangerous.”

“...We can try. We won’t have much time, but we can try.”

With a glance at each other, the brothers turn and sprint toward comms, sealing the door behind them when they get there. Anau hurries to the machine and starts sending out the warning. It’s short and to the point, which is all they have time for.

When the Terrans get past the door, they start dragging the brothers toward the airlock. Docim and Anau fight back, flinging their tendrils and tongues out in desperation. A couple of them go down, but it’s not enough to spare the brothers’ lives.

They find themselves sealed behind the glass of the airlock and look at each other for the last time, embracing for the end. Within a minute, they’re launched into the freezing abyss of space.

“Docim,” Anau whispers as their limbs grow sluggish and their suits start to shut down. “I’m cold.”

“I’m here, Anau,” Docim murmurs back, vision going hazy. “I’ll keep you warm.”

“...Promise?”

“...Promise.”

\-----------------------

_T-E-R-R-A-N-S D-A-N-G-E-R-O-U-S_

_A-V-O-I-D T-H-E-M_

_S-P-R-E-A-D W-O-R-D_

_P-H-I-R-I D-O-W-N_

_D-O-C-I-M_

_A-N-A-U_

_F-A-R-E-W-E-L-L_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the beginning, it says “the ten people who currently call it home” even though there are technically twelve people on the ship. I’m not counting the two people our mains disguised themselves as, since they were stuck in the lower levels at the time, and therefore weren’t with the bulk.
> 
> Red is a young adult, somewhere in his early to mid twenties, and Orange is middle-aged, somewhere in his mid to late thirties. I considered making them related (uncle and nephew respectively) but ultimately decided against it. Docim and Anau are the same age, though, having hatched from the same clutch. (Docim refers to Red and Orange as “they” throughout this because he isn’t assuming their genders, though both are male. No one else is that courteous, though.)
> 
> Docim goes to medbay to pull the body out of electrical from underneath, since those vents are connected.
> 
> White ended up succumbing to their injuries after fighting for life for a few days. They got their closure, though, and found out that the impostors had been ejected before passing. No one else died, aside from Cyan of course, but several were injured pretty badly in the last-minute struggle.
> 
> If anyone was wondering for the main story, the way that Purple, Lime, Pink, and Brown boarded their respective ships was via forged documents. They didn’t knock anyone out or otherwise incapacitate them, unlike the Red and Orange here.
> 
> Well, I hope you liked this! Thanks for reading!


End file.
